


Cas is heavy

by thescreechowl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Are those not related, Fluff and Humor, M/M, One Shot, not the kind of breath play the kids are talking about, physics are real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescreechowl/pseuds/thescreechowl
Summary: Dean and Castiel are celebrating their reunion the adult way after Cas had been on a case for a while. All is fun and games until Cas passes out. On top of Dean.





	Cas is heavy

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet happened because I was talking to All_I_need about angels and physics and yes, Cas is wedged inside a human vessel, but his trueform weight - such as it might be - still applies when his subconscious is otherwise engaged (read, unconcious). Such is my argument. Naturally my brain then came up with this. Enjoy. It's the first written thing I've ever published so please let me know what you think.

Dean can feel Cas getting close. He’s pounding into him hard and holy shit, Dean is seeing stars. It’s fuckin great; in fact, Dean can feel his own orgasm coming up _very _shortly, launching in five four three two one bliss. His entire body shakes, and a choked sound hitches in his throat as Cas takes him over the edge. And keeps going.

“Cas.”

A grunt.

“Cas, I _ah, shit _Cas, are you close?” He hisses as a particularly vigorous thrust makes his now oversensitive ass clench around Cas even more. Shit it’s good. “It’s not that I’m, OH, compfffffffuh complaining it’s just GOD jjust-"

Yet another grunt. “... almost… there… Dean…”

Each thrust is accentuated by more caveman sounds. He’s really into it today. Usually Cas is the quieter of the two, in noise and physicality both. But maybe it’s because they haven’t seen each other in a while, what with Cas working his own case, or it’s because Dean decided to celebrate their reunion by waiting for Cas on his bed, wearing Cas' favourite tie and a smug smile and not much else… whatever it is, Cas is going all out today.

“I can't, you, can we, are you-" speaketh the principality. For a guy who speaks all the languages and then some, Cas sure has trouble with basic grammar at the moment and Dean can’t help but smirk at that. He’s kinda proud of himself for what he can do to Cas, sometimes only with a wink and a flirty smile. He’s seen Castiel, Angel of the fuckin Lord drop an irreplaceable ancient artifact just because Dean licked a droplet of coffee off the heel of his hand. While holding eye contact. There is just something about an all powerful, always contained, restrained being of light losing his shit over him that makes Dean feel all the pink fuzzy feelings inside.

He feels Cas' hands curl into tight fists in his hair, at his hip, bruising his skin there as Cas goes to town for another five seconds and then comes in him with a hoarse shout. Dean clenches his ass for all it’s worth, making himself even tighter for Cas. Cas' hands unclench, Dean feels his body go soft and suddenly he feels like a freight train is derailing right on top of him.

He can squeak out a surprised “JesUS CA-" before he’s buried under an avalanche of unconscious celestial being post coitus. Dean finds himself pressed into his memory foam mattress- it still remembers him - which does nothing for his breathing. Opposite of that, actually, which he immediately decides is a problem, since it feels like he’s being swallowed up by a giant sex-smelling marshmallow.

“CAS!!!” Okay so screaming loudly into a pillow clearly won’t do shit, considering he can lift his head only about 1.3 inches. One of Cas' arms is flopped across Dean’s head, their legs are so hopelessly tangled together Dean can’t tell whose are whose and Cas' dead body weight is pressing into him with admittedly _way too much weight holy shit he’s gonna die from angel sex, he fuckin knew it would literally smack him in the ass one day. _Should he be praying for forgiveness? Get Chuck involved? No thank you, any parental encounter in this situation would be mortifying and Dean feels like he would rather die than face Cuck again. Which might happen much sooner than anticipated.

Lack of air is now acute and all Dean can do is frantically try to pry his arms loose from under Cas and try hitting him or… poke him or… vaguely graze him with his pinky finger which is all he can manage at this supremely awkward angle. He gasps for air, but nothing is going into his lungs. Cas is a solid, immovable weight on top of him, slowly crushing the life out of him. Stars appear and his field of vision is getting decidedly too close to tunnel vision, though still sans light at the end thereof. His head hits the pillow, his muscles screaming now, and he’s sort of resigning himself to his death-by-sex fate when Cas startles back to consciousness with a sigh. Dean's lungs produce a strange whistling sound as he tries to yell Cas' name again, when he finally succeeds in prying his left arm lose enough to basically tap out on the bed. Cas, in a stupor but thank god conscious enough to _fucking finally _realize something weird is happening, jumps up with a shout and very gracefully slides sideways off the bed, hitting the side lamp on the way down and atomizing it against the wall to their left. It was never Dean’s favourite anyway.

“Dean!” A brunette, sweaty head with two very blue, worried eyes pops up to his right as Dean flips on his back, buck ass naked and wheezing. It’d be hilarious if he hadn’t been dying 3 seconds ago.

“Dean, are you alright?!”

“Yeah Cas, just peachy.” More wheezing, though less whistle-y now.

“I apologize, Dean, I did not think I would pass out, that was stupid of me, I should not have let myself go like that-"

“Cas, it’s okay. I didn’t die, did I? Still here. Little flatter maybe, but otherwise still cherry. ‘cept my ass maybe.” Dean's cheeks are still rosy, but for a different reason now than lack of air. He makes a small embarrassed humming noise while his eyes are suddenly very interested in Cas' Ikea bedspread. “Jeez Cas, I won’t be able to walk straight for a week.” He tries on a wonky half smile and looks up at his angel through his eyelashes.

Cas’ face still looks like a storm cloud in August. He grumbles Something Enochian© under his breath and then sinks against the bed, back toward Dean. His head hits the mattress and Dean finds himself pinned by two very glacier blue laser beams.

“Tell me you really are alright, please,” Cas mumbles and reaches one hand up backwards to cup Dean’s right cheek, and traces his thumb along Dean’s lips. Dean kinda melts a little. Okay a lot. Cas' arm sinks back down and he looks so guilt ridden, Dean just can't be mad at him. Not that he was, anyway. So what, he almost got crushed to death by Mr I'm-as-tall-as-the-Chrysler-Building, but considering what happened just before that, it’s a pretty epic way to go.

He tells that to Cas.

Cas smiles ruefully, and keeps looking at him upside down.

“Forgive me.”

Dean's smile is a real one now and he brushes an unruly curl from Cas' face.

“Nothing to forgive, Sweetheart.”


End file.
